


Young Turks

by NefariousTillDeath



Category: Achievement Hunter GTA V AU, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: GTA V AU, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NefariousTillDeath/pseuds/NefariousTillDeath
Summary: The phrase “young turk” is simple slang to denote someone who is a little rebellious, pushing at boundaries, someone who’s out … seeking new things. They are at their core young members of organized crime.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack hiked his backpack up onto his shoulders and readjusted the heavy box he was carrying. He did not feel prepared at all for move-in day. Truth be told, he was happy to be out of his mother’s house. She was drunk all the time, and Jack felt like he’d spent the entirety of his life being an adult in her place. He felt a little guilty at the thought of leaving her, but he was also glad he didn’t have any siblings to leave behind at the mercy of her. This was his life now - all the way across the country, no more dealing with mom and all her problems. He was going to live a life that someone his age should live, finally. Whatever happened to his mother, well, that just wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

He’d scoped out his dorms days ago to make sure he knew where he was going and what the best path to take there would be. As he lugged his few belongings up a set of narrow, dimly-lit stairs, he wondered what life would be like now. He’d have a roommate, of course, but he didn’t know what he’d be like. Jack shrugged the thought off and walked up the hallway on the fourth floor of the dormitory. He finally reached 492 and sighed in relief. He awkwardly turned the handle on the door and entered the room, only a little surprised to see that his roommate was already there.

Jack dropped his things on his bed and turned to say hello. His roommate hadn’t looked up from unpacking, so instead, Jack stayed quiet and simply looked around the room. His roommate, still a major unknown, was tall, fit, and handsome. He had wavy blond hair that fell just past his chin, and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a plain tan shirt, loose jeans, and a battered red hat backwards. He was unpacking stack after stack of magazines and books and gently placing them on the bookshelf under his lofted bed. Jack saw that he’d already hung a few posters from what looked to be shooter films. 

“Hey,” Jack introduced himself finally, “I’m Jack. I guess we’re roommates?” The other man looked up from his boxes and blushed, looking rather embarrassed for not saying hello earlier. 

“Hah, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Ryan. Nice to meet you.” He quickly thrust his hand out for Jack to shake, and they shared an uncomfortable moment.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jack mumbled and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He started to unpack his box, and he decided to try to strike up a conversation with Ryan.

“So uh, there’s a ‘welcome day’ party or something going on at the student union tonight, are you going?” he asked as he put sheets on his bed.

“Oh,” Ryan responded, disinterested, “uh, probably not? Why, are you going?”

“Eh, probably not,” Jack laughed.

“Not the partying type, eh?” Ryan chuckled back. Jack grinned.

“I guess you could say that. I’d honestly rather shower and go to bed,” Jack replied with a sigh.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ryan agreed. He started to collapse his now-empty boxes as he continued to speak, “Didn’t bring much, huh?”

“Didn’t have much to bring,” Jack replied, his tone dropping slightly. He’d suddenly become self-conscious of his small collection of possessions: one set of twin sheets, about a week’s worth of clothes, a lamp, a few books, and his scant school supplies. He hadn’t had a chance to go out and buy a towel, or shampoo, and he realized his desire to shower would have to be put on hold.

“I uh, actually gotta go shopping tonight, so I definitely won’t be at the party,” Jack said, trying to cover his embarrassment.

“Hey,” Ryan said quickly, “I actually have to get some things too. Wanna come with me?”

Jack turned to look at Ryan with a grin, “You got a car?” Ryan nodded.

“Good, ‘cause I took the bus here,” he laughed, “yeah, sure, I’ll come with you.”

 

They pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot after a quick stop at the nearest McDonald’s and headed into the store. They both made a beeline for the towels - apparently Ryan had forgotten to pack his. Jack felt less embarrassed about his own lack of toiletries. Over the next hour, Ryan stocked up on all kinds of cheap foods, extra clothes, razors, and a few new books. Jack grabbed an inexpensive family-size bottle of shampoo, the cheapest towel he could find, and a few more t-shirts to add to his wardrobe. Ryan eyed Jack’s much smaller cart load and hummed to himself.

When they went to pay, Ryan whipped out cash before Jack could even get his wallet. Jack was horrified, and he begged Ryan not to pay for his things, but Ryan refused. The cashier was confused and a little afraid of how sternly Ryan had reprimanded Jack, but they were soon done and back in Ryan’s car. All the embarrassment had returned to Jack, and his entire face glowed red.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked, mostly confused but also a little angry.

“Look, my parents are paying every penny of my tuition. They paid for this car, the gas that’s in it, and they give me four hundred dollars a month for groceries. From now on, if you need anything, just tell me,” Ryan said sternly.

“I can’t ask you to buy everything for me, I’ve got money, and I barely know you! Plus it’s your parents’ money, wouldn’t they be mad if they found out you’re spending it on someone else?” Jack argued frantically.

“We’re gonna be roommates for at least a year, better get to know each other!” Ryan practically growled, “and no, my parents barely noticed that I left for college, they don’t care what I spend my beans on.” Ryan paused.

“Besides, that’s way too much money for me to spend on myself every month. I couldn’t go through that much if I tried! You’ve gotta help me with this burden, please,” he laughed, his entire aura softening. A weak smile tugged at Jack’s lips, and he scoffed and shoved Ryan.

“Agreed, then,” Ryan declared, “I’ll be Mr. Moneybags and you be my friend, tight?”

“You can’t buy friends, dude,” Jack laughed.

“Shut up!” Ryan exclaimed.

 

Jack opened the door to his and Ryan’s room and flopped down on his bed. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his thick red beard. He pulled his glasses off and abandoned them beside himself on the bed. He groaned and closed his eyes as he pressed his hands hard on them. 

Ryan rolled over in his bed and stared at Jack for a little bit before asking, “Rough morning?” Jack only grunted.

“You don’t know how lucky you are that you don’t have eight-A-M’s,” Jack sighed.

“Oh, believe me, the way you act when you come back from yours is enough,” Ryan said solemnly. 

“This class is gonna kill me,” Jack moaned as he rolled over to lie on his belly. He clutched his pillow tight to his face.

“I believe in you,” Ryan teased. Jack’s hand appeared from under his pillow, and he flipped Ryan off. Ryan only laughed and rolled back over in his bed.

They’d only been in school for a month, but a lot had happened in that time. Jack and Ryan had developed a mutual affinity for Ryan’s favorite shooter films - Licence to Kill, To Live and Die in LA, and Reservoir Dogs - as well as Jack’s favorite bands - The Smiths, Simon & Garfunkel, and The Replacements. Jack was helping Ryan with his civics class, and Ryan helped Jack with his computer science class. They mutually-struggled with their calculus and geology classes, and Jack helped Ryan memorize lines for his play while Ryan helped Jack with his numbers for his budgeting class. They typically avoided on-campus events, unless they were business- or theatre-related, which played to Jack’s and Ryan’s majors respectively.

Additionally, they’d optimised their time together to get shopping, homework, and extracurricular requirements done in time to watch movies on Ryan’s new VHS player they’d bought in their second week. When Jack saw it on sale at the store, he’d planted the seed of want in Ryan’s mind by pretending to offhandedly mention how cool it’d be to be able to watch Ryan’s favorite movies in their dorm. Ryan dedicated one-hundred and twenty of his dollars to the VHS, a small boxy TV, and five of his favorite titles. They’d wasted no time setting up the TV and VHS player in their dorm, and spent the weekend watching all of Ryan’s picks. They bought a few new tapes every week and had their own movie nights on the weekends. As Ryan had predicted, his parents didn’t bat an eye at how easily he went through his allowance every month.

Ryan rolled back over, having suddenly remembered something he urgently needed to tell Jack, “Hey, good news!” Jack looked up from his pillow expectantly.

“Kris, that cute brunette in my theatre class, y’know, the one who’s super into lighting? Yeah, she’s seen you hanging around in the theatre during rehearsal, and she told me that she thinks you’re ‘quite the looker’.”

Jack frowned slightly, “Eh, I’m not really interested. Sweet of her to say so, though. I thought this beard might be unsightly.”

Ryan frowned hard, upset that his foolproof plan to cheer Jack up had failed miserably. He huffed and turned back to face the wall. “You’re impossible.”

“What?” Jack scoffed, “because I don’t particularly care about that one girl in your theatre class?”

“No,” Ryan retorted, “because you’re so damn hard to cheer up.”

“I’m fine,” Jack laughed unconvincingly. Ryan knew he was lying, but he left it for now. He was exhausted, and Jack would be more willing to talk when he was done with his classes. For now, they could just relax and sleep. Nine twenty-five was too early to talk about real stress and difficult classes. 

When Ryan’s alarm went off two hours later, Jack was already gone. Ryan got up and got dressed; he ran a comb through his hair and studied his face briefly in the mirror. He grabbed his backpack and strolled out of the dorm. He sauntered out into the brisk October air and hurried to class. He slept through his first class, lazily took notes that slowly deteriorated into doodles during his second, and he ended up skipping his third after having decided that he was too tired to attend. He stopped by the mailboxes on his way back to his dorm and picked up his mail. He stuffed a couple of envelopes and a subscription magazine into his bag and retrieved a second key from his lanyard. He walked up a few feet and unlocked the box labeled “Pattillo, Jack”. He’d stolen Jack’s key a few weeks earlier when Jack said he would never get mail. Ryan checked the box every time he checked his own, but thus far it had been empty. Today wasn’t any different. 

Ryan was surprised that Jack never got any mail at all - not even letters from the college. He thought for sure Jack would get a letter prompting him to join on-campus clubs, just as he had, but his mailbox was empty even then. Ryan briefly wondered if someone was stealing Jack’s mail, but he remembered that he had the key and would have noticed if someone had taken it. He shrugged it off and made his way back to the dorm. 

Jack was back, working on homework with his books and notebooks scattered all over his bed. Ryan climbed onto his bed and opened his letters. He chuckled a little at the first one, but frowned when he read the second. He took the four hundred dollar check out of the envelope and briefly skimmed the scrap of paper inside before crumpling it up and tossing it into the garbage. He pulled out his wallet and placed the check safely inside. He returned his attention to the first letter to read it again.

“You got two letters today?” Jack asked, having been distracted from his work by the sound of Ryan’s crumpling.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan responded, still half-reading the letter, “from my brothers.”

“That’s them on the wall, right?” Jack pointed at a polaroid picture that showed two young boys with their arms wrapped around each others’ shoulders. Ryan looked up and grunted.

“It’s an old picture, but yeah,” he commented lazily, “apparently they joined AV Club and Astronomy Club this year.”

“How old are they?” Jack asked.

“Hmm… They’re thirteen,” Ryan said after a moment of thinking.

“That’s a lot for thirteen-year-olds to do on top of school,” Jack observed.

“Yeah, they do sports too. Cross Country in the fall and Track in the spring,” Ryan elaborated, “they’ve always been the busy type, y’know?”

“What about you?” 

“Pshh,” Ryan scoffed, “I didn’t do anything in high school except get into trouble.”

“For real?” Jack was intrigued. Ryan didn’t really seem like the troublesome sort, at least not as far as Jack knew.

“Yeah, I was in detention almost every day,” Ryan chuckled, but his tone was sour, “I got in a lot of fights at school, and after school I’d go out and pick more.”

“Real ball buster, huh?”

“Hah, yeah,” Ryan muttered, “I guess you could say that.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Jack suddenly felt awkward, realizing that something was bothering Ryan. Before he could say anything, Ryan piped up again.

“What about you? What’d you do in high school?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack thought for a minute, “Well, I was in Key Club and I was the Vice President of Student Council. Kept me busy enough.”

“You were a good kid, then?” Ryan asked as he shot Jack a sly grin.

“Eh, I guess,” Jack muttered, “I wanted to do well enough in school to be able to go to a far-away college, so I guess, yeah, I tended to be pretty good back then.”

“Back then? You telling me you’ve got some secret mischief now?” Ryan asked.

“I mean if you count watching movies all weekend instead of doing classwork, then yeah,” Jack laughed. He fell back onto his pillow, upsetting one of his textbooks.

“Why’d you want to go to college far away from home?” Ryan questioned.

“That’s,” Jack paused, “well, that’s kind of a lot. I guess the short answer is I didn’t have a great home life.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said awkwardly, “I, uh, I get that.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Jack replied sincerely.

“You leave any siblings back there?” 

“Nope,” Jack said, “mom knew better than to have more than one kid, and I can be grateful for that I guess. You ever worry about yours?”

“Eh, a little,” Ryan admitted, “but I think they’ll do better than I did. They don’t go looking for trouble.”

They fell silent again. Jack shuffled uncomfortably in his bed, and Ryan sighed quietly. They rarely talked about their home lives, and now they understood why. Life before college was messy and complicated, even if they were barely saying anything. 

Ryan got off of his bed and turned the TV on. “You up for The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” he asked. Jack nodded. Ryan took the tape out of the case and put it in the little slot in the front of the TV. He pressed buttons on the front as he was prompted to and the movie started. 

Jack had only caught glimpses of the movie on TV at home, but he’d never sat down and watched the whole thing. As far as he was aware, it was a racy movie, but Ryan claimed it was better than Reservoir Dogs. Jack declared he’d be the judge of that - he couldn’t see how a movie made almost twenty years before Reservoir Dogs could even hold a candle to it. Ryan swore he’d love it.

Jack didn’t take his eyes off the screen once. Ryan was secretly very pleased with himself for choosing such a hit. There was a point about halfway into the film when Jack looked like he very much wanted to ask a question, but he stayed quiet and focused on the movie. Ryan noted this observation and made a point to return to it when the film was over. For the time being, however, he let Jack watch in peace.

Nearly two hours later, when the film was over, Ryan broke the noise of the credit music to inquire what Jack thought of the movie.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Jack said, a mystified glaze over his eyes as he watched the credits roll by, “that was incredible!”

“Told you so,” Ryan grinned. Before he could ask Jack anything else, Jack posed a question of his own.

“So was the main character…”

“Gay?” Ryan interjected.

“No,” Jack shook his head, “I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. What… God, that sounds horrible… Okay, whatever, what is he? Or she? I don’t really know.”

“Jack, are you telling me you don’t know what a transvestite is?” Ryan laughed. 

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, “I guess so.”

Ryan laughed at Jack’s expense before he explained, “This is probably not the best explanation in the world, but a transvestite is basically someone who dresses like the opposite gender and, like, lives their life that way.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack said, still not totally understanding.

“Is there anything else you don’t know about?” Ryan teased.

“Shut up,” Jack laughed, “Transvestites weren’t exactly a big thing in my hometown!”

“I’m not really sure they’re a big thing in anyone’s town,” Ryan wheezed between laughs.

“You’re an asshole!” Jack threw a friendly punch Ryan’s way, and a lot of things happened all at once.

Ryan’s right palm met Jack’s fist and twisted his arm sharply. Jack cried out in surprise and Ryan dropped his arm in an instant. Ryan leapt to his feet, his face glowing red. Jack shot him a quizzical look.

“Sorry,” Ryan mumbled, terribly embarrassed, “I just thought…”

“It’s fine, dude,” Jack said, shaking out his arm as if to prove that it still worked. Ryan smiled weakly and went to eject the tape from the TV. 

As Ryan was putting the tape away, Jack braved another question, “So like, are Transvestites women who used to be men?”

“No,” Ryan said as he returned the movie to the shelf with the others, “that’s a Transgender person. I’m not really that well-versed on the subject, but I guess the big difference is how they present themselves to other people? Like, okay, do you know what a Drag Queen is?” Jack shook his head no, “Um, okay, well they’re men that dress like women and perform. Not really like strippers, but, you get it? I would say that Drag Queens are Transvestites. And, um, Transgender people are like, actually that gender. Like… oh! Candy Darling!”

Jack stared blankly at Ryan in utter confusion. Ryan sighed.

“Andy Warhol? The artist? Candy Darling was one of his main models,” Ryan explained, “actually, come to think of it, a lot of Transgender women modelled for him.”

“I know who Andy Warhol is, but that doesn’t really explain anything,” Jack admitted. Ryan just shrugged and returned to his bed.

“It’s not that important,” Ryan sighed, facedown in his pillow, “I’m going to sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“G’night, Ryan,” Jack yawned as he pushed his books off his bed and burrowed into his blankets.

 

Halloween came quickly. Jack and Ryan spent most of October running around like chickens with their heads cut off, working on projects and papers, and studying for exams. Ryan’s play was the first weekend of November, Jack had a mock federal budget due, and they both had lab journals to turn in. They spent more time than ever holed up on the fifth floor of the library, where they could spread out over the entire floor. They created a studying bolthole, and they were there working away every spare moment. 

When everything was finally finished - save for Ryan’s play - and classes were finished, Ryan and Jack addressed the issue of Halloween. There were likely hundreds of parties going on, and they’d been invited to a few by their friends and Ryan’s castmates. They simply weren’t sure what to do. They could always spend the night in watching the small collection of Spielberg films they’d accrued, or they could go nab some half-priced candy at Wal-Mart. Of course, they also felt obliged to go to their friends’ parties. In the end, they decided to dress up and go out.

Ryan drove to a pop-up Halloween store that had been set up in an abandoned department store. Surprisingly, even on Halloween in a college town, they still had loads of costumes. Ryan had a bit of an issue finding a costume tall enough for him, but they eventually found good ones and headed for the checkout line.

Ryan found a grim reaper costume, complete with a tattered black robe, a horrifying skull mask, and an enormous scythe. He was ecstatic to look so terrifying, and Jack was already on edge imagining someone of Ryan’s stature cloaked in that monstrosity. Jack had found a Rocky Horror Picture Show costume, a Frank N. Furter one to be exact, and it came with a matching wig. 

“Do you think I should shave my beard?” Jack asked. 

Ryan considered it for a moment before responding, “Absolutely.”

An hour later, Jack was clean-shaven and they were dressed to the nines. Not an inch of Ryan’s skin was visible, and he looked like a real wraith had stepped out of the astral plane to haunt the streets. Jack had a sharp but curved jawline hidden under his beard, and in the full costume, he looked a lot like Tim Curry in his glory days. Ryan painted his face and used some of the stage makeup to finish off the look, and together they looked incredible.

They made their way to Ryan’s friend Kris’s party, which was off-campus at her house. Ryan drove to the party, and they were able to park in her driveway. She’d offered a spot in the garage even, to keep Ryan’s car safe from drunk people, but he figured it would be fine so long as it was off the road. Kris was dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and she definitely looked the part. 

“Jack? Is that you?” she asked, ogling over Jack’s costume, “you look incredible!”

“Thanks!” Jack smiled, not at all playing the part. 

Ryan and Jack followed Kris through a small crowd of people, mostly other Theatre majors, to the back yard, where there was music, drinks, and all kinds of games. Ryan saw a bunch of his castmates and tech students he knew, and Jack recognized a couple of the student directors. They struck up conversation and danced under the strings of orange and purple lights Kris had hung from tree to tree. 

When someone came around handing out drinks, Jack took one to taste, but Ryan refused. Jack shot him a funny look and he just shrugged. Jack rolled his eyes and tasted the beer. It wasn’t great, but it would do. He wouldn’t have more than just the one, but he would enjoy the one he allowed himself to have. Soon, he and Ryan were just dancing in a tightly-packed group of people.

The sun slowly set, and the party got less and less sober. The crowd got closer, and everyone was sweating, even in the chilly evening air. At some point, Ryan and Jack got separated. Jack didn’t mind terribly, he just slowly made his way out of the center of the yard to the back where people were bobbing for apples - or, rather, trying to, but they were too drunk to actually get any. 

One of the people attempting to bob for apples - a man in a Fresh Prince-era Will Smith outfit - stumbled over to Jack and swung a red solo cup sloshing with beer his way. 

“Didn’t know dressin’ up as a faggot was an option!” he laughed. 

Jack rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the guy. He was, however, keeping a weather eye out for Ryan, almost desperately waiting for him to return from wherever he’d gotten off to. The man wasn’t letting up though.

“Seriously - hic - you look like - hic - a dimestore tranny!” the man said between drunken hiccups. 

“This is a real costume,” Jack said smoothly, “I’m dressed up like a character from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“Yeah, the fag movie!” the guy laughed, spilling some of his beer on Jack.

“It’s - you know what, I don’t care,” Jack scoffed as he shoved the man away and turned to leave the yard. The guy grabbed Jack by the shoulder and stopped him. He sloppily sloshed more beer onto Jack, and he looked angry now.

“Where you goin’, fag?” he spat.

“Get off of me!” Jack exclaimed and shoved him away again.

“Fag on the loose!” the guy cried as Jack hurried away along the fence.

Jack could feel his face getting hot. He was glad he had the face paint on to hide how red he probably was underneath it. He climbed the stairs to the back porch and ran into one of Ryan’s friends who was also avoiding the beer. He struck up a conversation with the guy, Stuart, and recounted what had just happened with an air of inconvenience.

“God,” Stuart groaned, “Derrick’s the worst, especially when he’s drunk.”

So his name was Derrick. Jack made a note to avoid him in the future. Jack and Stuart moved away from the unsavory conversation and discussed school of all things, while drunk college kids milled about around them.

Earlier, when Ryan and Jack got separated, Ryan retreated into the house to use the bathroom. When he returned to the kitchen, he found Kris being harassed by friends of someone she’d invited. He stormed into the kitchen looking like Death himself and told the guys off.

“Knock it off,” Ryan said, his voice muffled by the mask.

“Or what, you’re gonna reap our souls?” the first guy, a redhead wearing a shoddy He-Man costume, retorted, feigning intimidation.

Ryan pulled his hood down and his mask off to reveal the murderous expression on his face and growled, “Get out.” At the sight of his face, the guys lost all the desire to argue and practically bolted out of the kitchen.  
Ryan put his mask back on and turned to Kris, “Some people, I swear.”

“Thanks, Ryan,” she said awkwardly, “I know, it’s like, I threw this party, the least you could do is respect me!”

Ryan and Kris left the kitchen and started up a conversation in Kris’s living room, where a group of people were watching The Shining and drinking more than they should. Kris grabbed another beer and offered Ryan some, but he declined again. She shrugged and continued the conversation. More people were crowding into the room, some there to actually watch the movie and some there only because they wanted to sit. Eventually, Kris and Ryan ended up crammed into one recliner. The Shining had ended by that time, and someone had gotten up and changed the movie to Friday the 13th. Kris scowled and turned away from the TV. She was now entirely in Ryan’s lap, mostly facing him. He had to awkwardly wrap his left arm around her to keep her from falling out of the chair.

“Sorry,” she groaned, “I just hate this movie so much!”

“Why do you own it?” Ryan chuckled.

“I don’t! It’s one of my roommates’,” she said. She leaned against Ryan’s chest and tried to block out the sounds of the TV.

Ryan’s arm tightened around Kris instinctively, and she snuggled into his embrace. Her hand had settled gently on his shoulder. Ryan kept talking through all this, although he was now hyper-focused on her every move. He was telling her about how he’d seen this movie a lot as a kid and it didn’t really freak him out anymore. Her ear was right over his heart, and she let the steady beat of his heart and the hum of his voice distract her from the screams emanating from the other side of the room. 

“We don’t have to sit in here if you don’t want to watch this movie,” he said suddenly, having broken from his monologue. 

The next thing he knew, he and Kris were locked in her room, and he was trailing kisses down her jaw. His cape and mask were abandoned on the floor, along with Kris’s blonde wig. Kris pushed him onto her bed and fell with him, and he rolled over so that she was underneath him. He sat up and pulled off his gray undershirt before laying back down to resume kissing her.

They moved together, the sound of the movie and the music permeating the room and creating an energetic ambiance. The entire room was dark, except for the spray of light that came in through the window from the backyard. Their bodies were hot; Ryan, despite his size and strength, was gentle with Kris. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, emotionally or physically.

When Ryan rolled off of Kris, breathing heavily and dripping in sweat, he held her close and placed a soft kiss on her hair. She leaned into his embrace and hummed softly. His arms wrapped tighter around her, and he intertwined his legs with hers. 

“So, uh,” Ryan whispered, “you still have that crush on Jack, or…”

“I was kinda thinking you and I have more in common, so…” Kris laughed softly, “besides, between me and you, you’re cuter.”

Ryan kissed her again and nuzzled her with his chin, his short beard tugging at her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

“Shit,” Ryan groaned, “I forgot about Jack.”

“We should go find him, probably,” Kris agreed, realizing what Ryan meant.

Ryan crawled out of Kris’s bed and pulled his jeans on. She slipped back into her dress and picked her wig up off the floor. Once they looked presentable, they sneaked down the stairs past a couple drunk kids and left the house. Ryan scanned the crowd in the yard, trying to pick out Jack. Kris nudged him and pointed to her right, where Jack and Stuart were sat having a heated discussion about the differences between Macbeth and Banquo. Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I guess he’s fine,” he groaned. Kris laughed.


	2. Chapter Two

Ryan’s play went fantastically. Jack got a seat next to the lighting booth for every show, and he and Kris would talk through intermission. Ryan had a supporting role, which was typical for freshmen, but Kris said she’d be surprised if he didn’t get a lead in the spring musical. Jack agreed.

After the last show on Saturday night, the student director, Benny, had everyone over at his fraternity house for an afterglow party. Benny was a loud, obnoxious, and talented fifth-year senior. He’d failed most of his classes in his freshman year, so he’d gotten the chance to hang around in the theatre program for an extra year. He threw a party after every closing night for every play and musical the college put on, and he was well-liked by his peers. Ryan had only known him for two months, but they were already fast friends. 

Jack was relieved that this party wasn’t like Kris’s Halloween party. Benny forbade alcohol on the grounds that “it separates the student from their goals.” Truth be told, he simply didn’t want to see any of his fellow theatre majors to fail classes because they were too occupied with drinking and partying. He always said there would be time for all that once they got their diplomas. Jack liked the sentiment.

Benny was serving pizza and Capri Suns at the party, and he’d broken out his personal collection of tabletop games. This kind of party was much more Jack’s pace, and even Ryan seemed to be enjoying himself. Jack would later find out that Ryan had been really into Dungeons and Dragons in high school, but never got to play because of detention. In any case, that party proved to be much more enjoyable than Kris’s. 

Jack, Ryan, and Kris left Benny’s around one in the morning. Benny lived near Jack and Ryan’s dorm, so they’d opted to walk rather than take Ryan’s car. As they were leaving, Ryan and Kris walked the opposite way from Jack. Jack gave Ryan a quizzical look.

“Oh, uh, I’m gonna go back to Kris’s tonight. Cool?” Ryan asked.

“Cool,” Jack laughed, “Don’t let him eat junk food for breakfast,” he said to Kris.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Kris said, saluting Jack.

Jack flicked the lights on in the dorm room and dropped his coat on the floor as he slipped his shoes off. He took off his shirt and jeans and jumped up into his bed. He sat there for a while, legs hanging off the side, and looked around the room. It was the first night this semester he’d been alone in his dorm, not that he particularly minded. He looked at the stack of movies on the bookshelf under the TV. Jack had given up his own bookshelf to hold the TV and movies because he didn’t have anything to put in it. Ryan, who had a small horde of books, was grateful for Jack’s sacrifice. 

Jack stretched and yawned. He got up to turn the lights off, and then he crawled in bed. It hit him that Thanksgiving break was coming up, and he wasn’t totally sure what he was going to do yet. Going home wasn’t an option - even if he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to. He would probably end up staying at the dorms, but he wasn’t sure if the dining hall would be open over the break. He’d have to check when he went in for breakfast on Monday. 

He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind kept jumping around from his grades to Thanksgiving break to Benny’s speech about “staying dry” and waiting until after college to drink. Jack thought he sounded like an abstinence preacher, and laughed at the thought. It was well past four by the time he finally fell asleep.

 

Ryan went home for Thanksgiving break. He left in the afternoon on Tuesday, and he’d woken up Jack to say goodbye. Jack woke up later that day, around one, and went straight to the dining hall. As it turned out, they’d be open during break. Jack wasn’t the only person who wasn’t going home for the holiday, and for that he was glad. That meant he’d be able to get into the library, and he was okay with that. Ryan had left thirty dollars on his desk for Jack, just in case he needed anything.

On the one hand, Jack hated feeling like Ryan’s sugar baby. On the other, however, he was glad to not have to worry about money. He’d spent almost every penny he had on tuition and bus fare from North Carolina to California. He had initially been prepared to survive off of his one meal a day at the dining hall, but was relieved when Ryan ordered them food every night. It bothered him how dependent he was becoming, but he didn’t really have a choice with his current situation. He figured he could get a job if it ever became an issue. He just wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle work and school at the same time.

It started snowing when he was walking back from the library. He never associated California with snow; then again, this wasn’t Los Angeles. The college was closer to Oregon than it was LA, though, so it made sense that they’d get snow when winter rolled around. Jack was happy to see the snow. Everything had been muddy and brown for too long, and the snow was a nice change of pace. Snow for Thanksgiving - Jack liked the sound of that.

The dining hall served cheap turkey and mashed potatoes made from powder packets, but it was better than any Jack had had at home. He stayed in the hall for over an hour and ate seven plates of food. He was content enough to spend a quiet Thanksgiving here, not worried about his mom getting drunk and throwing a fit. Not having to call her boyfriend to come over and get her out of her room. He could just sit here and eat, and when he was done he could return to his dorm and watch movies until he fell asleep - and that’s exactly what he did.

He started looking for a job on campus, and he found out that the bookstore was hiring. Apparently, two of their staff had quit after dropping out, and they’d been looking for people to fill the positions since then. They liked that Jack had involvement with Student Government and Key Club, so they hired him at his interview. He would only be working ten hours a week, but he’d be making more money than he had before, so he was content. He was sure Ryan would be happy about this particular development, and he was happy to finally be able to contribute to their personal finances.

When Ryan got back late Sunday evening, he dropped in to let Jack know he’d be staying at Kris’s that night. Jack waved him off and went back to sleep. He didn’t mind Ryan being gone so much - it was almost a nice break to finally have alone time again. Of course, Ryan was his best friend, and Jack enjoyed his company. That didn’t mean he didn’t mind spending some time away from Ryan, though.

Eight AM, Monday morning crashed into Jack like a runaway train. He felt like he hadn’t been at school in months, despite break being a whopping five days. He slammed his hand down on his blaring alarm clock and rolled out of bed. He was dressed and ready to go in less than five minutes, and he was out the door to class. It had snowed even more that night, now there was at least a foot on the ground. Despite the lack of decorations, it really was starting to feel like Christmas. 

He stopped at the dining hall between his eight and noon classes. His afternoon classes seemed to drag on forever, and he was relieved when three-thirty finally came. He made his way to the other end of campus for his first day of work at the bookstore.

The job was actually fairly good. His coworkers, two sophomore girls, were very friendly. Gina was the talkative one who took all the phone calls and handled all the transactions; Rachael was the one with the incredible memory, and she did almost all of the inventory work by herself. Jack helped out with the heavy lifting and organizing of books and college paraphernalia. Over the duration of his two-hour shift, Jack got to break the ice nicely with them, and he knew they’d be his friends in no time.

Ryan looked relieved when Jack returned after six. He’d already ordered takeout and eaten his portion. There were two small, white boxes sitting on Jack’s desk. A set of chopsticks and a fortune cookie had been left next to the boxes. 

“I thought you were dead or something,” Ryan chuckled at his own silliness.

“Sorry,” Jack said, making a beeline for his food and not sounding at all sorry, “I forgot to tell you, I got a job.”

“For real?” Ryan asked.

“For real,” Jack responded through a mouthful of noodles, “at the bookstore.”

“That’s awesome!” Ryan exclaimed.

“You won’t have to buy everything for me anymore,” Jack said, a smug grin on his face.

Ryan frowned, “Your job isn’t gonna stop me!”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, follow me around and make sure I don’t blow any cheddar?” Jack countered as he took another bite of his cold chow mein.

“Maybe I will,” Ryan joked. He grabbed his backpack off his bed and pulled out three new tapes - Edward Scissorhands, Die Hard, and Rocky III, “Got these while I was home. Movie night’s gonna be epic this weekend!”

“Hell yeah it is! It’s been forever since I’ve seen Die Hard!” Jack exclaimed, jumping up to look over the movies.

“I wanted to get all the Rocky’s, but they only had this one,” Ryan said sadly.

“Hey, one’s better than none! Maybe they’ll have them at Wal-Mart,” Jack consoled him.

“How was break?” Ryan asked after Jack finished his food.

“Surprisingly nice,” Jack answered as he threw the empty box into the trashcan like a star basketball player. He continued, “Got the job, you know that. They had an okay dinner at the dining hall, it snowed, and I got to sleep a lot. Pretty standard Thanksgiving by my terms. How was yours?”

Ryan laughed and then sighed, “Hoo, it was something, that’s for sure.”

“That bad?” Jack winced.

“Seeing the boys was nice. Trevor broke his arm climbing a tree in our yard, and Alfredo made a stellar map that covers an entire wall of his bedroom. God was Maria pissed about that,” Ryan chuckled to himself.

“Maria?” Jack asked.

“My stepmother,” Ryan answered curtly.

“Evil stepmother?”

“About as close as you get in this world,” Ryan sighed, “but yeah, it’s nice to see my brothers again. They’re really fun to be around, and they’re so smart. I’m honestly looking forward to seeing what they do with their lives.”

“That sounds nice,” Jack said, wishing for a moment he could relate.

“Yeah,” Ryan grumbled, “my dad and Maria were less-than-thrilled to see me, though. I hate that woman - I mean, I really hate that woman. She’s got this idea that she can boss me around like I’m some kind of man-servant, and dad just lets her do whatever she wants. He’s so whipped for her, and not in the good way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack started, “I know that feeling.”

“Tell me about your family,” Ryan practically commanded, “C’mon, I spilled my beans.”

“Uh, well, okay, sure,” Jack scrambled. He found a train of thought and rolled with it, “yeah, I mean, I never knew my dad, but my mom was always kind of a wild lady. She’s been in an on-and-off relationship with this guy, Frankie, for the last ten years. Closest thing to a dad I’ve ever had, but he practically ran me out of the house when I turned eighteen. Mom’s always drunk off her ass, so she didn’t have any say in the matter.”

“That sucks,” Ryan huffed, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jack sighed, “it’s a part of my life that’s over and done with. First day here was the first day of my life, ‘s far as I’m concerned.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Ryan chuckled, “I’m happy for you, though.”

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly.

They sat in a comfortable silence for some time, appreciating the vulnerability of the conversation they’d just had. Jack wasn’t uncomfortable sharing about his past, he just didn’t feel it was particularly important. Ryan, on the other hand, felt very nervous talking about his family. It wasn’t so much that he was uncomfortable or didn’t trust Jack, he just didn’t feel like it was okay for him to do so. He felt like a whiny child complaining about something insignificant.

“I’m ready for bed,” Ryan yawned, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, me too,” Jack said.

Ryan flicked the light off.

 

Just like that, their first semester of college was over. Exams week was hell, but they both made it through just fine. Ryan drove home on the eighteenth of December, right after his last final. He’d promised his brothers he’d be home before they got out of school, so he had to scramble to make the three-hour drive to southern California in time. Jack was staying at Kris’s place for vacation. She’d graciously opened up her house for him, as she would be travelling to Reno to visit her own family for the winter. 

She’d offered him her room, but he decided to take up residence in the living room. He didn’t particularly want to sleep in a bed that Ryan had shared with her. Something about that felt a little too odd for him. He was grateful for the offer, regardless. Kris’s roommates would also be out of town, so he was actually doing them a service by housesitting. Kris had opened up the whole house to Jack, including the food. It would go to waste if he didn’t eat it, and he was more than willing to carry that cross.

He didn’t have to work during break, but he had a bit of money to carry him through the two or so weeks until his interim class started in January. Ryan wouldn’t be back until February, after the interims were over, but he’d be going back to the dorm by then. He’d be back at work too, so if he could get his eighty dollars to last him until then, he’d be perfectly fine over break.

Kris’s house was actually really nice. There was a full bathroom on the ground floor, so he didn’t even have to go upstairs to shower. It was also nice to have cable - he didn’t have to rely solely on movies for entertainment, and when one program ended, there was another after it. He didn’t even have to change a tape! He was especially happy to be able to watch The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, The Golden Girls, and Friends. They’d been his favorites when he still lived at home, and he was happy to have them back, even if it was only for a short while. He was sure Kris wouldn’t mind him coming over to watch more if he wanted to.

He was happy to have a quiet holiday. Christmas itself was a little lonely, but there was a marathon of all the best Christmas movies on ABC, and he bought himself the most expensive microwave turkey dinner he could find. It was small, quiet, and a little lonely, but it was perfect. He wasn’t sure he’d change a thing if he could.

 

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, Ryan was having a hell of a time managing his father and stepmother. His father wasn’t happy with him ever, no matter what. He’d come to terms with this long ago. Maria, on the other hand, always found something to be angry about. Right now, it was his hair. It now was long enough to brush his shoulders, and he started wearing it in a ponytail. Maria was horrified; she thought Ryan looked incredibly unpresentable and scruffy.

“James,” she chastised him one day, “you look like a crack addict.”

“I look like a college kid with long hair,” he spat back, “don’t call me James, Maria.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, you ungrateful little brat!” she screeched, “I thought when you became an adult you’d finally have some manners, but clearly I was wrong about that!”

“I have manners for people who deserve my manners,” Ryan hissed.

“Oh! You rotten, horrible boy!” she shouted back, “you’re getting a haircut, whether you like it or not!”

“I am not!” Ryan fumed, “I’m an adult, you can’t boss me around anymore!”

“You listen to me, you disrespectful little shit,” she growled, grabbing him by the shirt, “as long as you come back to this house and take my money, you’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”

Ryan ripped his shirt from her grasp and held her in a deathly glare, “I take my father’s money, not yours, and I’ve never done what you tell me to do an’ I’m sure as hell not going to start now!” Ryan turned away from her and marched up the stairs, each step landing with a resounding thud. 

He locked himself in his room and curled up in a ball on his bed. The lights were off, and a hot breeze was blowing through the window. It was well past eight, so the sun was set. Everything was dark and hot. He missed Jack, he missed Kris. He longed to be back in his dorm with Jack, watching movies together. He thought of waking up next to Kris instead of to the horrible sound of Maria banging on his door in the morning, shouting new insults at him.

Almost as though he had predicted it, there was a knock on his door. He tensed up for a moment, but he relaxed as he realized it was a short and gentle knock. He got up and opened the door, and he was nearly tackled to the ground by Trevor and Alfredo. He awkwardly grabbed one in each of his arms and stumbled backward to his bed, collapsing with them on top of him. 

“Hey,” Alfredo said, sitting up and trying to adjust his eyes to the dim room.

Ryan leaned back and turned his lamp on, bathing their expectant faces with a warm light. He got up and closed his door, not wanting Maria to interrupt. He returned to his bed and was swarmed by his brothers again. He relented and let them topple him over. When they were comfortable, crushing him under their weight as they sprawled out over him, he spoke up.

“‘Sup guys?” he asked nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t just had a shouting match with their mother.

“Sorry about mom,” Trevor blurted awkwardly. His cast was digging into Ryan’s belly, and it was painful, but he didn’t say anything.

“You should have heard her when Trey broke his arm,” Alfredo giggled, selling out his twin.

“Fredo! We said we wouldn’t talk about it!” Trevor hissed, trying to kick Alfredo but missing and kicking Ryan square in the knee. “Sorry, Ry.”

“‘S okay,” Ryan groaned, “It’s okay, really. I know your mom and I don’t get along, at all, but I don’t want to get between you and her. She’s your mom.”

“Yeah,” Alfredo sighed, “unfortunately for us.”

“She’s been horrible lately!” Trevor moaned.

“Ever since you left for college, it’s like we're the new you!” Alfredo chimed in.

“We’re the ones she’s blowing off steam with,” they said in unison.

Ryan hummed in understanding and shifted slightly under Trevor’s arm, trying to get the hard plaster off his bladder. Trevor, as per usual, didn’t even notice that he was at all inconveniencing his brother. Ryan rolled his eyes and settled back in, Trevor’s arm still pressing hard against his guts. 

“I’m sorry you guys,” Ryan sighed, “I wish I could help.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alfredo said quietly. 

They laid in Ryan’s bed, uncomfortably squishing each other in the double bed. Ryan managed to move his arms enough to wrap them around his brothers, albeit a little awkwardly. They leaned into his embrace, and soon Ryan could feel the shallow rise and fall of their breath as they fell asleep. He took the opportunity to nudge Trevor’s arm off of his stomach and took a deep breath. He sighed deeply, and Alfredo stirred. Ryan held his breath, but Alfredo just snuggled against Ryan and fell still again.

Eventually, Ryan fell asleep too.

 

Christmas at the Haywood home was an extravagant event. Ryan’s parents threw a party every year for their coworkers, a huge group of white-collar snobs. There were a couple people Ryan liked, people who acted like normal human beings in public, but for the most part they were insufferable. Trevor and Alfredo liked getting fawned over by their parents’ friends, but even they had their limits at the Christmas party.

An hour before the party, Trevor and Alfredo ran into Ryan’s room to show off their outfits. They were wearing matching black suit coats, red button-downs, gray pants, shiny black shoes, and black ties with tiny embroidered Christmas trees on them. Trevor’s suit had been hemmed above his cast, but he still looked sharp. They posed, their hands up in the air and wide smiles on their faces.

“Whaddaya think?” they asked together.

Ryan chuckled and shook his head, “You look great.” They smirked and smoothly high-fived.

“What are you wearing?” Alfredo asked, looking over Ryan’s current outfit - baggy gray sweatpants and a shirt that was far too small and read “Varsity Volleyball” in a block font. “Not that, I hope!”

“Obviously not this, Fredo,” Ryan laughed and swung out at Alfredo playfully. Alfredo ducked out of the way and grinned at his brother. 

“What are you wearing, anyway?” Trevor asked.

“Wait… That’s for the girls volleyball team,” Alfredo said slowly, “do you have a girlfriend?” Trevor and Alfredo’s eyes lit up and they stared at Ryan expectantly.

“You’re getting too observant,” Ryan scoffed.

“So you do!” Trevor exclaimed.

“You can’t lie to us, Ry,” Alfredo said slyly, “I can’t believe you have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us!”

“We’ve only been dating for a couple months,” Ryan justified as he pulled the too-small shirt off.

“Still!” Trevor argued, giving Ryan a playful shove.

“Get outta here, I need to get dressed,” Ryan chuckled as he gently shoved Trevor back. He shooed the boys out and shut his door behind them.

He stomped over to his closet and flicked the light on as he opened the door. He stepped inside the spacious walk-in and scanned the clothes he’d left behind. He thumbed through countless collared shirts, hideous sweaters, and vests. He finally grabbed a plain white dress shirt and a pair of black pants. He chose to ditch the tie and jacket, and opted for a more casual look. He left his top two buttons undone and rolled up his sleeves. He slipped his dull dress shoes over his regular tube socks and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He squinted at his hair and fetched a hair tie. He pulled it up into a short ponytail and smiled happily.

He descended the stairs just as his stepmother started ushering the first guests into the house. He sneaked past her, using the guests as a diversion. He joined the twins in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of champagne. He leaned against the counter and downed the champagne in one gulp. Trevor and Alfredo stared at him in awe.

“Ryan!” Alfredo exclaimed, “What are you doing? And wearing? Mom’s gonna be furious!”

“Let her be,” Ryan said with a smile.

“Ryan,” Trevor said slowly, “you gotta go change, mom’s already mad about your hair. If she sees you dressed like that at her party… you’re gonna be dead meat!”

“I know,” Ryan replied. He filled his glass with champagne and went to mingle with the guests. 

Trevor and Alfredo watched anxiously from the kitchen until their mother walked past and hissed at them to join the party. They looked at each other and shrugged, following her into the living room. 

The Haywood’s house was built to entertain. The kitchen was sprawling and spacious, with two islands and a built-in bar. The living room was even better-suited for entertaining: a four-foot-tall fireplace dominated the far wall, two seating areas on either end of the room balanced it well, and the grand piano in the middle of the room grounded the space. Ryan was seated at the piano, preparing to play. He’d set his champagne within reach on top of the piano. He just started pressing the keys when Maria entered the room and saw what he was wearing. 

“Walking in a Winter Wonderland” was Ryan’s favorite Christmas song to play, so he started with that one every year. The guests were entertained, as always. When he finished playing, he’d have plenty of time to escape because everyone would go right to Maria and James and flood them with praise for Ryan’s skill. He figured he’d take that time to become the center of attention elsewhere to prevent Maria from taking him aside.

He played on for some time, and he started taking requests. After he’d played every song he knew and his hands started to cramp, he called it a night. He grabbed his glass and disappeared like a thief in the night into the crowd of guests. Maria huffed and puffed, but quickly pulled herself together to receive all the praise for her stepson. Ryan chuckled and sipped his champagne as he stirred up conversation with some of his favorite guests.

Ryan made sure he was standing where Maria could see him, and he snuck glances after every sip to see her reaction to him drinking. Normally he wouldn’t drink, but if it would help rile her up, he’d go so far as to kill a man. He watched as her face grew redder, her smiles more forced, and her hands slowly balled into fists. He bided his time with each group of people he engaged, making sure to move away from her when he needed to as she tried to approach him. He always stayed infuriatingly close but out of reach.

When the last of the guests had left, Ryan knew there was no escape, so he waited in the kitchen and sipped champagne. Trevor thought he looked like a Bond villain, but it wasn’t the time to comment. Maria sent the boys upstairs, and Ryan’s father had retired to bed. She paced in the kitchen for a moment; Ryan was leant back on his elbows on the counter, awaiting his fate. She finally stopped and turned to face him.

“James,” she sighed, seemingly defeated, “would it honestly kill you to act like a member of this family for one night?”

Ryan scoffed and rolled his eyes, “This isn’t a family, you know that, right?”

“I’m doing the best I can!” she hissed.

“Bullshit,” he spat, “you’re doing a sorry job of whatever all this is.”

“James, I am your mother, you will speak to me with more respect,” Maria demanded, a dangerous fire building in her eyes.

“You are not my mother,” Ryan said pointedly, “you're nothing like my mother.”

“I’m trying to be!” she retorted, “I’m trying my best, why are you constantly fighting me?”

“Because you aren’t my mother,” Ryan growled, anger burning in his belly, “you aren’t even half the woman my mother was, and you sure as hell aren’t going to take her place. The sooner you get that through your head, the better.”

“James Ryan Haywood! I can’t believe-” she shrieked, only to be cut off.

“You do not get to call me that!” he yelled, “Don’t you say my name like that! Ever! For the last time, my name is not James.” 

Ryan poured the rest of his champagne down the drain and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Maria behind and ignoring her shrill yells. He slammed the front door behind him and made for his car. He locked himself in and started up the engine. No sooner had the engine roared to life than Ryan had backed out and sped down the street. He took one look in his rear view mirror to see that Maria hadn’t followed him out. Typical.

He didn’t know where he was driving to, but he just drove. Eventually, he found himself at a beach. He didn’t even bother to figure out which one he was at, he just parked his car and went down to the sandy shoreline. It was a little cooler out here, right on the ocean, and he was grateful to not feel so sticky anymore. He started walking down the busy boardwalk. There were easily hundreds of people there, celebrating the Christmas season. He just walked and steamed in his own anger for a while.

He was hyper-conscious about anyone who got within arms reach of him, even in the midst of his tantrum. When someone hit him on the shoulder, he turned and grabbed them by the shoulder. Hard. They tried to walk away from him, but couldn’t shake his hand off their shoulder. He dragged them to the railing and pinned them against it. He took one look at the mysterious potential thief in a purple hoodie and snorted. He whipped their hood off to reveal a tan-skinned boy, no older than sixteen, with a nervous look on his face. 

Ryan stared at him and held him in a menacing gaze. He wasn’t even touching the boy anymore; he’d simply petrified him. His jaw was clenched tightly, and he breathed quietly through his nose. The kid was almost hyperventilating, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

“Wallet. Now,” Ryan said in a low and gruff voice. 

The kid panicked and fumbled in his pockets for a moment before producing Ryan’s ratty leather trifold. Ryan snatched it out of his hands and returned it to his own pocket. He stared at the boy a little longer, but then he cut the ominous aura in the air and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the boy against the railing, breathing hard trying to collect himself. 

This is why I never go to Los Santos, he thought, chiding himself.

Ryan was even more angry than before, and he didn’t want to deal with people stealing his stuff, so he returned to his car. He locked himself inside again, but he sat and stared at the dark horizon. He ground his teeth and huffed. He wanted to be back at college with Jack and Kris. As soon as he thought it he felt guilty though, because he didn’t want to leave Alfredo and Trevor.

Who knows, he mused, maybe they’ll just move out with me someday and we can start our own life.

He started his car and drove home.


	3. Chapter Three

“Is it spring break yet?” Jack moaned, his face buried in his pillow.

Ryan rolled over and just stared sleepily at Jack for a moment before he groaned, “One more week.”

“Go-od,” Jack dragged out the word so it was ten times as long. Without raising his head, he said, “put in Ghostbusters.”

Ryan clambered out of bed and did as Jack asked, despite being exhausted himself. The lights were off, and he made no move to turn them on, so he simply fumbled around in the dark until he found the right VHS and popped it in the TV. He crawled back in his bed and listened absentmindedly as it started playing. Jack hummed happily from his bed, and Ryan just grinned.

Jack was chomping at the bit for spring break to roll around. It had taken a while, but he somehow convinced Ryan to go on a trip to Los Santos. Despite his unfortunate encounter there over Christmas break, he agreed to take Jack out. Ryan realized he hadn’t actually explored Los Santos very much besides the occasional evening drive. As long as they kept their eyes peeled for thieves, he figured they’d be just fine and have a good time. They’d invited Kris, but she was going to the Carolinas for a beachfront vacation with her sisters.

Ryan had negotiated a double allowance for March, ensuring he and Jack would have enough money to afford good lodging and any activity they wanted to do. Maria had thrown a fit, claiming that the trip was secretly a front to “go and fornicate the week away with his whore of a girlfriend.” Ryan was infuriated, but it also humored him that Maria seemed to think he hadn’t yet slept with Kris, or that he’d have to go away to do so. In the end, however, Ryan walked away with his eight-hundred dollars and the satisfaction of knowing he’d bested Maria one more time.

Ryan and Jack studied their way through midterms and spring break was upon them before they knew it. Jack handed in his last exam and practically sprinted back to the dorm where Ryan was waiting and probably still packing. When he arrived, Ryan was waiting outside with his car already running. Jack ran up and threw open the door, and the sound of loud Metallica hit his ears. He clambered in and buckled in, excited and ready for the trip.

“How long’s it gonna be until we get there?” he asked.

Ryan, who was looking over a map of California, replied, “Should be about… three hours? If we don’t stop for any breaks. You good?”

“Mhm.” Jack nodded. 

“Three hours then! Hopefully we don’t hit traffic,” he mumbled as an afterthought, “it might end up being more like four or five hours. You know what, let’s not waste any more time talking about it.”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed, hitting his hands on the dashboard, “let’s just go!”

As Ryan had predicted, the drive ended up taking nearly five hours. The city was flooded with people, mostly college students, vacationing in the Sin City of California. It took Ryan a while, but he finally navigated through the winding overpasses and brought them to their destination: The Gentry Manor Hotel. 

Ryan explained that he’d picked this hotel because it was in the heart of the youth-dominated neighborhood. Sure enough, nearly every person Jack saw on the streets appeared to be their age or a little older. The hotel was, regrettably, not on the shore, but Ryan assured Jack it wasn’t more than a ten minute drive to either of Los Santos’ most popular beaches. Jack could hardly stay in his seat, but Ryan did his best to get them parked in the hotel’s garage as quickly as he could.

They unpacked their things and made a beeline for the reception desk. A bellhop took their things and escorted them to their room on the tenth floor. Jack’s jaw dropped when they walked inside. The suite - yes, Ryan had splurged on a suite - looked like an apartment. It was easily larger than Jack’s childhood home and far fancier to boot. The high ceilings and eggshell walls made the space feel huge, but the curvy modern furniture gave it a comfortable feel. There were splashes of color everywhere so nothing about the suite felt bland or lackluster. 

When the bellhop was gone and Ryan was settling in, Jack was racing around the suite looking at everything. Ryan thought it was funny at first, but he realized Jack had probably never seen anything this nice in all his life. Jack was feeling the sofas, staring intently at all the little handcrafted baubles all around the room, and gazing out the patio doors. Ryan interrupted his friend’s exploration to inform him that there was only one bed in the suite.

“I guess I booked the room a little too late,” he said as a sort of apology.“Is it spring break yet?” Jack moaned, his face buried in his pillow.

Ryan rolled over and just stared sleepily at Jack for a moment before he groaned, “One more week.”

“Go-od,” Jack dragged out the word so it was ten times as long. Without raising his head, he said, “put in Ghostbusters.”

Ryan clambered out of bed and did as Jack asked, despite being exhausted himself. The lights were off, and he made no move to turn them on, so he simply fumbled around in the dark until he found the right VHS and popped it in the TV. He crawled back in his bed and listened absentmindedly as it started playing. Jack hummed happily from his bed, and Ryan just grinned.

Jack was chomping at the bit for spring break to roll around. It had taken a while, but he somehow convinced Ryan to go on a trip to Los Santos. Despite his unfortunate encounter there over Christmas break, he agreed to take Jack out. Ryan realized he hadn’t actually explored Los Santos very much besides the occasional evening drive. As long as they kept their eyes peeled for thieves, he figured they’d be just fine and have a good time. They’d invited Kris, but she was going to the Carolinas for a beachfront vacation with her sisters.

Ryan had negotiated a double allowance for March, ensuring he and Jack would have enough money to afford good lodging and any activity they wanted to do. Maria had thrown a fit, claiming that the trip was secretly a front to “go and fornicate the week away with his whore of a girlfriend.” Ryan was infuriated, but it also humored him that Maria seemed to think he hadn’t yet slept with Kris, or that he’d have to go away to do so. In the end, however, Ryan walked away with his eight-hundred dollars and the satisfaction of knowing he’d bested Maria one more time.

Ryan and Jack studied their way through midterms and spring break was upon them before they knew it. Jack handed in his last exam and practically sprinted back to the dorm where Ryan was waiting and probably still packing. When he arrived, Ryan was waiting outside with his car already running. Jack ran up and threw open the door, and the sound of loud Metallica hit his ears. He clambered in and buckled in, excited and ready for the trip.

“How long’s it gonna be until we get there?” he asked.

Ryan, who was looking over a map of California, replied, “Should be about… three hours? If we don’t stop for any breaks. You good?”

“Mhm.” Jack nodded. 

“Three hours then! Hopefully we don’t hit traffic,” he mumbled as an afterthought, “it might end up being more like four or five hours. You know what, let’s not waste any more time talking about it.”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed, hitting his hands on the dashboard, “let’s just go!”

As Ryan had predicted, the drive ended up taking nearly five hours. The city was flooded with people, mostly college students, vacationing in the Sin City of California. It took Ryan a while, but he finally navigated through the winding overpasses and brought them to their destination: The Gentry Manor Hotel. 

Ryan explained that he’d picked this hotel because it was in the heart of the youth-dominated neighborhood. Sure enough, nearly every person Jack saw on the streets appeared to be their age or a little older. The hotel was, regrettably, not on the shore, but Ryan assured Jack it wasn’t more than a ten minute drive to either of Los Santos’ most popular beaches. Jack could hardly stay in his seat, but Ryan did his best to get them parked in the hotel’s garage as quickly as he could.

They unpacked their things and made a beeline for the reception desk. A bellhop took their things and escorted them to their room on the tenth floor. Jack’s jaw dropped when they walked inside. The suite - yes, Ryan had splurged on a suite - looked like an apartment. It was easily larger than Jack’s childhood home and far fancier to boot. The high ceilings and eggshell walls made the space feel huge, but the curvy modern furniture gave it a comfortable feel. There were splashes of color everywhere so nothing about the suite felt bland or lackluster. 

When the bellhop was gone and Ryan was settling in, Jack was racing around the suite looking at everything. Ryan thought it was funny at first, but he realized Jack had probably never seen anything this nice in all his life. Jack was feeling the sofas, staring intently at all the little handcrafted baubles all around the room, and gazing out the patio doors. Ryan interrupted his friend’s exploration to inform him that there was only one bed in the suite.

“I guess I booked the room a little too late,” he said as a sort of apology.

“Oh, I don’t really care,” Jack answered, “I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

“Oh,” Ryan stammered, “I mean I don’t really care either, I just didn’t know if you did.”

“We’re adults, Ryan, I think we could manage sharing a bed if we have to,” Jack said patronizingly, giving Ryan a smug grin.

“‘We’re adults, Ryan’,” Ryan mocked Jack playfully before giving him a gentle shove.

“It’s kinda late,” Jack yawned, “and as much as I’d like to go out and explore right now, I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”

 

When they woke up the next morning, their bodies were tangled together. They’d been snuggling in their sleep, and Ryan felt a little embarrassed. Jack woke up just around the same time Ryan did, and when he realized what had happened, he burst out laughing.

“Get a little cold and lonely, Ry?” he wheezed.

“Uh, your arms are wrapped around me too, Jack-ass,” Ryan retorted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“You were totally hugging me first though,” Jack argued, still laughing.

“Hell no! You’re the lonely one, you wrapped your gangly little arms around me first!” Ryan countered, now full-out laughing.

“Gangly?” Jack asked, feigning hurt, “I’ll have you know, this is bonafide muscle and fat right here.” He waved his admittedly thick arms around, and Ryan exploded into a new wave of laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” Ryan said as he caught his breath, “You wrapped your big beefy arms around me first!”

“Eat my shorts,” Jack laughed. 

“What do you say we forget this nonsense, get dressed, and hit up the streets?” Ryan suggested.

“Deal!” Jack agreed, leaping up from the bed.

Ryan realized just now that Jack hadn’t shaved his beard since Halloween, and it was nearly back to its original length, “You keeping that?”

“Keeping what?” Jack asked, cocking a brow.

“The beard,” Ryan explained, “I just realized now that it’s grown back.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said, running a hand through it like he had also just realized, “actually, no, I think I’m gonna lose it. Make use of this jawline God gave me.”

Jack left to shave, and Ryan got dressed. He pulled on some acid-washed jeans that were cuffed at the bottom, and he eventually went with his white-and-red KISS shirt. Jack came out of the bathroom wearing dark skinny jeans and his usual pop print button-down. 

“We look totally bitchin’,” Ryan said. Jack nodded and smiled, his grin actually visible now that his auburn beard was gone.

“Let’s get moving, Ry!” he exclaimed excitedly.

Their first day in Los Santos, Ryan wanted to take Jack around to all his favorite places. They started with breakfast at a dive called Rex’s Diner. Despite the run-down outside, Jack discovered they knew how to make some good food. When they were stuffed to the brim with pancakes, eggs, and bacon, Ryan took Jack to Downtown Vinewood. They saw the celebrity stars, and after they made their way to the Vinewood Wax Haven. Jack had never been to a wax museum, so Ryan knew he had to get them there at some point during the trip. He was glad it had ended up being toward the beginning of the vacation because it had been years since he’d been, and he was anxious to go back.

They grabbed a quick bite to eat at a pizza joint before heading to the Whirligig Theatre to see a movie. For dinner, they decided to go back to the hotel to eat. The Gentry’s dining hall was exquisite - they had all kinds of five-star dishes every night, and tonight was no exception. Roasted turkey, peppercorn steak, and lamb chops; creamy mashed potatoes, spicy green beans and couscous, Italian pasta salad - the list went on and on with mouth-watering repasses.

They ate, and ate, and ate until they couldn’t eat another bite. They practically waddled back to their hotel room and fell right into bed, passing out as soon as they hit the sheets. They were so tired from their busy day and their gluttonous meal that by the time they woke up the next day, it was almost four in the afternoon. They didn’t mind, though, it was only their second day in Los Santos, they had four more to go exploring. It would be just fine to spend a day resting.

Now, early sunset rays were streaming through the lacy curtains, casting the entire room in a golden glow. Jack was only half-awake with his face mostly buried in his pillow. Ryan propped himself up on one arm and just gazed around the room, drinking in the romanticist beauty of it all. Jack finally woke up, but he refused to leave the comfort of the hotel bed. They chatted for a while, ordered room service, and watched a movie on the pay-per-view.

They were still laying in bed when Ryan asked, “You ever smoke weed?”

“That’s a weird thing to ask,” Jack answered.

“Yeah,” Ryan shrugged, “but have you?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack admitted, much to Ryan’s surprise, “more in high school than now. I used to get really stressed, and there was always weed in the house. One thing lead to another; I guess you could say I smoked a lot in high school.”

“Pothead Honor Student,” Ryan marvelled, “really.”

“Really!” Jack laughed, “How about you?”

“Don’t tell Benny,” Ryan pretended to whisper, “but we all smoke a couple joints before performances to ease the jitters.”

“I wondered how you kept your cool,” Jack teased, and Ryan burst out laughing.

“You ever hot boxed?” asked Ryan.

“I dunno, does smoking in your living room with the doors closed count?”

“No,” Ryan chuckled, “no, that doesn’t count at all.”

“Then no,” Jack laughed, “have you?”

“A couple times, yeah,” Ryan said, his face painted with a nostalgic grin, “few times in high school, once before exams last semester. God I sound like a regular stoner.”

“It’s fine, Ry,” Jack rolled his eyes, “we’ve all done a little weed.”

Ryan threw his head back and let out a roaring laugh.

 

➤➤➤

 

The alarm starting blaring at 6:30, and his hand fell on it like a hammer, shutting it off almost as quickly as it had turned on. He groaned and rolled up to sit on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes with both hands. He heard a sigh and whipped around to see the woman from last night still in his bed. He cocked a quizzical brow, but he’d deal with her later. Right now, he needed to shower and get the boys up for school. He decided to do the latter first.

He strolled out of his room, crossed the living room, and headed up the hall to the house’s other bedroom. He pushed open the door and pulled up the blinds as he called, “Alright, Michael, Gavin, time to get up!”

Two young boys, ten and six respectively, groaned and whined as they burrowed down into their sheets, running from the bright sunlight. He reached over and pulled down the older boy’s sheets first.

“C’mon, Michael,” he said sternly, “we’re not doing the ‘get out of bed five minutes before we leave’ garbage today, kiddo.”

He turned to the younger boy’s bed and sat on the side, gently pulling back the covers on a little tan-skinned boy whose eyes were scrunched tightly in attempts to block out the sun. He ran a hand through the boy’s sun-bleached hair and said gently, “I know yesterday was rough, buddy, but today’s gonna be a lot better, I promise.”

The younger boy, Gavin, just whined a little more and tried to pull his covers back over his head, but the man chuckled and picked him up. 

“I don’t think so, young man. Let’s go, you too, Michael, c’mon,” he reached a hand out to Michael, who took it and followed slowly, rubbing his eyes.

He dropped the boys off at the bathroom adjacent to their room and returned to his own. The woman was still in the bed, but she was awake now. She was smiling devilishly at him, as though she was expecting him to return to her, but he had no such intentions.

“What was all that?” she asked, a sultry tone in her voice.

“Getting my boys up for school,” he responded simply.

“You didn’t tell me you had kids,” she said, sounding slightly upset.

“Why would I?” he shot back as he rifled through his dresser in search for clean underwear. He periodically tossed a shirt or a lone sock over his shoulder before he finally found what he was looking for.

“I would think that’s something you’d tell a girl,” she said, now perfectly put-off.

“Why are you still here?” he retorted, completely skipping past her last statement.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He groaned and shut his dresser drawer before turning to face her. He was still only wearing boxers and socks, bearing free all the tattoos that adorned his arms and chest. The way he was twirling his moustache made him look incredibly formal, however, despite his attire.

“I thought it was pretty obvious last night was a one-time thing, but I guess I do still gotta spell it out for some of you girls,” he said, sounding exasperated.

The woman just huffed, terribly offended, and she pulled her shirt on, collected her things, and was barely back in her pants as she stormed into the living room. Geoff sighed in relief when he heard the front door slam shut.

There was a small voice at his door just then, “Daddy?”

He turned and crouched down to be eye-level with the boy, “What’s up, Gavver?”

“Who was that lady that was just here?” Gavin asked, innocent, eyes still droopy and tired.

“Oh,” Geoff said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “just a… friend.... Of daddy’s, yeah?”

“Oh,” Gavin yawned in reply, “okay. Have a nice shower, daddy.” 

Gavin turned and toddled away, probably back to the bathroom with Michael. Geoff closed his door and headed for the shower. He was relieved to finally get washed off; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of beer goggles he’d been wearing last night to get him to where he’d been that morning. Worse yet, he had no idea what he might have touched or had all over him, and he was anxious to feel clean again.

No more Sunday night drinking, he scolded himself as he poured too much shampoo in his hand.

There was a frantic knocking at his bathroom door just as he’d lathered his hair with shampoo. He sighed and called, “What is it?”

It was Michael who spoke, yelling loudly as always, “You gotta come out here!”

“Michael, I’m in the shower!” Geoff yelled back.

“But you gotta!” Michael insisted.

“Look, Michael, I’m not-” Michael cut Geoff off.

“There’s a baby out here!” he cried.

Geoff’s heart dropped to his stomach and he nearly fell. He shut off the water and leapt out, grabbing his towel and hastily wrapping it around his waist. His hair was still soapy and dripping as he dashed out to the living room to see this baby.

The baby, it turned out, was not a baby but a young boy, about the same age as Gavin, who was bawling his eyes out. Geoff’s mind was racing a thousand miles a minute as he stood there, dumbfounded, soaking the carpet in soapy water. His heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his throat, and he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do.

“W-where’d he come from?” Geoff asked.

“After that lady left,” Gavin started, only to be cut off by Michael.

“That whore found him outside,” Michael explained.

“Michael! Language!” Geoff scolded, thinking to himself, I really gotta stop swearing in front of them.

“She brought him in here and said she was gonna call… secret services?” Michael finished, confused.

“What the hell,” Geoff muttered to himself. He covered his face with one hand and held his elbow with the other, and his foot was softly tapping on the soaking patch of carpet. 

“Michael, try to calm him down. I need to get dried off and dressed before I can do anything about this. I’ll be right back,” Geoff said, and he turned back to his room.

Five minutes later he was dry and dressed, and he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, where the boy was sitting between Gavin and Michael. Michael had given him two chocolate poptarts and he’d stopped crying almost immediately. Of course then Gavin wanted poptarts as well, so by the time Geoff got back to the living room all three boys had a silver packet in their hands and were happily munching away, watching morning cartoons on the box TV.

“Alright,” Geoff breathed heavily, looking the boy straight in the eyes, “hi. I’m Geoff. What’s your name?”

The boy stayed quiet and only glanced at Michael, who said, “that’s my dad. You can say hi to him, he’s nice.”

The little boy pondered this for a moment before looking back to Geoff and quietly mumbling, “Jeremy.”

“Hi, Jeremy,” Geoff said softly, “do you know where you are?” Jeremy shook his head no, and Geoff sighed.

“Okay, do you know where your parents are?” he asked. Again, a no from Jeremy. “Do you know who your parents are?” At this point, a no wasn’t surprising to Geoff.

It had been the same with Michael and Gavin. First it was Michael, only three years old; Geoff had found him in a drug den, and after hours of asking around found out his mother had died of an overdose and they’d just kept him around. Geoff found Gavin a few years later, he was four at the time, fresh off the boat and immediately abandoned by whoever had brought him here. Neither of them had said yes to those questions, and so Geoff had taken them in. 

Geoff pulled himself out of his depressing reverie and glanced at the clock. 

Shit, how is it already eight? He groaned and stood up.

“Hey, boys, I need you to get in the car. Daddy needs to find Gavvy’s old car seat for Jeremy, and then we have to leave for school, yeah?” Michael and Gavin gave Geoff obedient nods and raced off to the garage with Jeremy in tow.

Geoff went to the back of the garage where the storage shed was and searched around for Gavin’s old car seat. It was pretty small, but so was Jeremy, and it would last for one car ride at least. He finally recovered it from the piles of old baby things and junk he had stowed away, and he rushed around to the garage. He had to cram the third car seat in between Michael’s and Gavin’s, and it didn’t really fit, but Geoff didn’t have much of a choice. He buckled all three boys into the front-facing seats and climbed in the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life and sputtered as Geoff pulled out of the driveway and zoomed off to the boy’s school. 

He realized as he watched Michael and Gavin walk into the school that Gavin’s shirt was on backwards and Michael’s shoes were untied and he groaned. He turned around to look at Jeremy, who was wiggling anxiously in his seat, nervous without his new friends. Geoff spoke out of pure instinct.

“Hey, kiddo,” he smiled, “it’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna see if I can find your parents.”

“I don’t have parents,” Jeremy argued.

“That’s okay,” Geoff said, “if you don’t have parents, you can come live with Michael and Gavin, how’s that sound?”

“Great!” he exclaimed.

“Great!” Geoff echoed, and he drove away from Michael and Gavin’s school.

 

Geoff made over thirty phone calls while Jeremy played with Gavin and Michael’s toys and watched Aladdin over and over again. He probably walked a mile or two during all his pacing through the house. Before he knew it, the clock chimed three o’clock and it was time to get the other boys from school. He loaded Jeremy up in the car and made his way to the school. This time, he parked in the lot and took Jeremy in with him. He found Michael and sent him off to get Gavin and told them to go to the after care for a little while. He groaned internally at the thought of having to pay the school almost fifty dollars just to watch them for thirty minutes, but he’d rather that than have to deal with three little boys in an office. He made his way to the principal’s office and waited for the receptionist to usher him in. 

“What can I help you with today, Mr. Ramsey?” the principal, Mrs. Oppenthorn, asked.

“Mrs. Oppenthorn,” Geoff started with much ceremony, “I’d like you to meet Jeremy, the newest Ramsey!” Jeremy giggled at this, and Geoff beamed.

“Hello, Jeremy, I’m Mrs. O,” she said sweetly, giving Jeremy a winning smile that he returned with a toothy one of his own.

“I’m assuming you’re here to inquire about late enrollment,” she said, “do you have his past records?”

“No,” Geoff said, “same as the other two. Apparently neither the birth parents nor foster care worried all that much about education or paperwork.”

“I’ll get you the paperwork, then,” she said, swiveling in her chair to open a filing cabinet, “same as the last time, just fill it out and have it back by the end of the week. He’ll be good to go by next Monday.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Oppenthorn,” Geoff said genuinely. 

He was relieved when he’d first enrolled Michael to find out how easy it had been to get him into school. He initially chalked it up to pure luck, but after he enrolled Gavin he couldn’t hold his curiosity and he’d had to ask why there were no questions asked of him. Apparently this sort of thing was fairly common in Los Santos and the surrounding cities - parents frequently abandoned their children, or died and left their children as unclaimed orphans. It was only by the goodness of regular citizens like Geoff that they ever got homes.

Of course, Geoff would take Jeremy down to the courthouse the following day and get all his paperwork filed and make sure he didn’t really have parents anywhere, but he’d been through this process before and he knew it well by now. Initially he’d be signed as a foster parent, and if they couldn’t find Jeremy’s parents after six months, Geoff could legally adopt him. Geoff was glad he’d kept his employment over the last few years. When he’d been trying to adopt Michael, there was the issue of unemployment that complicated everything. By some miracle, he’d been able to get hired by a construction company and qualify for the income requirements of the state. Now, almost eight years later, he was a foreman and would be more than qualified to adopt Jeremy.

He was glad.

 

➤➤➤

 

Ryan took a long drag from his shoddily-rolled blunt. His head lolled back against his headrest, and he blew the smoke slowly out his lips. He breathed in the smoke through his nose and sighed in contentment. He passed the half-burnt blunt to Jack, who also took a long drag. Ryan’s car was thick with smoke. The setting sun’s rays streamed through it, glancing off the thicker clouds and shining right through the clearer bits. Jack’s Smiths tape was playing softly in the background, and the engine purred as it sat idle, keeping the car cool in the heat of the Los Santos evening. 

“This,” Jack slurred, “was a great idea.”

“Hell. Yeah,” Ryan replied, his eyelids fluttering as he let out a long sigh.

“It’s been,” Jack paused to take another drag, “Like… a year? Maybe a year? A year, Ry! God!”

Ryan laughed, leaning back so that his head was at an awkward angle against his seat. He wildly reached for the blunt in Jack’s hand, nearly knocking it away in his haste. Jack passed it over and Ryan breathed long and hard through the burning joint. He breathed the smoke out through his nose and grinned stupidly. 

“Jack,” Ryan mumbled, his lips still around the blunt, “I’m so goddamn hungry.”

“Let’s just get room service, yeah?” Jack suggested, “I don’t feel like walking anywhere.”

“Dude, we have to walk back to the hotel room,” Ryan rebutted. 

“Why is life so hard?” Jack whined. Ryan laughed again, and this time Jack joined him.

“I’m gonna die if I don’t eat something right now,” Ryan exclaimed, leaning forward suddenly and nearly hitting his head on the steering wheel. 

“Let’s dip,” Jack suggested, “get room service and call it quits?”

“Mmhmm,” Ryan hummed. He extinguished the end of the blunt and pocketed it before turning off the car. He and Jack stepped out of the car, and they both wobbled a bit.

“Man, I am blazed!” Ryan complained loudly, steadying himself against the car.

Jack hummed in agreement, and then they slowly made their way back to their hotel room, hoping they didn’t smell too much like weed. When they finally made it back, they collapsed on the sofa in the living room, still very out of it. Ryan finally got himself together enough to get the phone and order room service - a large everything pizza and milkshakes - before he sunk back down on the loveseat. Jack was sprawled out on the longer couch, snoring softly.   
Ryan gobbled up almost half of the pizza before Jack woke up. He passed on the pizza and went straight for a milkshake. He struck a deal with Ryan: Ryan could have the whole pizza if Jack could have both milkshakes. They agreed and stuffed themselves until they felt sick, and then they got sick. Jack held back Ryan’s hair while he puked in the toilet and would then periodically turn to the tub to puke there. 

As soon as he felt well enough to, Jack rinsed out the tub and warmed up the water to have a shower of his own. Ryan wasn’t yet feeling well enough to leave the toilet, so there he stayed, throwing up his pizza well into the night. After a good puke and a shower, Jack was feeling much better, and he was very glad he’d chosen to just have the milkshakes. He wasn’t sure if red slop would ever stop running out of Ryan’s mouth. Jack stayed up with him, holding his hair back and bringing him water.

“You really can’t hold your munchies, can you?” Jack asked, stifling a laugh.

“No,” Ryan coughed, “I guess I can’t.”

Jack let the laugh escape his mouth, and Ryan joined in softly.

Jack figured they must look like quite the pair. Two young men, coming off a weed high, one fresh-showered and the other sweaty with a mouth dripping with puke. He felt bad that there wasn’t much else he could do to help Ryan, but really, the man had eaten an entire large pizza, what had he expected? Having expelled the contents of his own stomach, Jack was feeling hungry again, but he worried about what might happen if he ate. He opted to drink water until his belly was full and hope that would be enough to get him through the night.  
As ridiculous as the whole situation was, Jack was having a great time in Los Santos. He was excited to see more of the city, but what he was truly enjoying was quality time with his best friend. He knew he was going to cherish every memory from this trip for the rest of his life, and he was grateful to Ryan for making this all possible. Even this memory here, of sitting with Ryan for hours as he spilled his guts, would be important to Jack. For the first time in his life, he had a friend he loved, and he couldn’t be happier.


	4. Chapter Four

“What are we doin’, daddy?” Jeremy asked. He was holding Geoff’s hand while they stood in line in an enormous building filled with men and women dressed professionally to the nines. 

Geoff beamed as he answered Jeremy, “Well, J-man, daddy’s signing some important papers to tell everyone that you’re my son. Isn’t that cool?”

“Yeah, it is!” Jeremy giggled and jumped around excitedly.

“And when we’re all done here, we’re gonna pick up Michael and Gavin from school and have a little party, how does that sound?” Geoff asked.

“A party?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, kiddo, we’re gonna play games and eat cake,” Geoff explained.

“Really?” Jeremy looked like he was going to cry.

“Really!” Geoff assured him. Sure enough, Jeremy started crying, so Geoff picked him up and hugged him tightly. “What’s up, bud?”

“I-I-I’m just e-e-essited to eat c-cake!” he wailed. Geoff laughed.

It had been almost seven months since Jeremy showed up on Geoff’s front porch, and after the gruelling process of searching for his parents, sorting out all the legal documents and court hearings, and arranging the house to accommodate a third child, they’d finally reached the point where it was all a done deal. Today, Jeremy would legally become a Ramsey, and he would have a permanent home. Geoff felt that today was the end of a long and strenuous journey, but he was coming out on top. His family was growing one size that day, and he couldn’t be happier.

The only thing that concerned him was his present financial situation. It had been tight with Michael and Gavin, but throwing a third child in the mix was going to put more than a strain on his finances. As it was, he’d been living paycheck-to-paycheck, now he had to account for another whole child’s worth of expenses, and he couldn’t see a way to survive that strain. He’d inquired about a raise with his boss, but he was informed that he was already being paid more than the company typically allowed for foremen. There weren’t any available promotions at the time either, but his boss promised he’d keep a weather eye for one. 

The promise of a promotion wasn’t going to do it, though. Geoff needed more money now, not months or years from now. He considered getting a second job, but he was already working almost fifty hours a week, and he couldn’t afford to pay a sitter more hours than he already did. He was stressed and scared, and he really couldn’t see a clear path to a stable future, but he was glad that he had Jeremy. He would do whatever it took to provide for his boys, no matter the cost, and that wasn’t going to change. He would figure it out; he always had.

At least that’s what he told himself before he got laid off. 

It was unfortunate timing, as the last of his small savings pool dissolved with the expenses involved with adopting Jeremy. No sooner had he been fretting about making ends meet than he was called into the office. An hour of shouting and bargaining later, Geoff left, head hanging down and spirit utterly broken. He was glad at least that this meeting had happened right away in the morning, giving him time to call unemployment and Medicaid. 

In the blink of an eye, his picture-perfect future had been stripped out from underneath him. Any semblance of stability he’d previously been maintaining was now nothing more than a pipe dream. It wasn’t the first time he’d been without a job, without cash, but it was the first time he had kids and no job. He didn’t know how to solve this problem.   
He despaired.

 

➤➤➤

 

Jack had gotten his letter in the mail only a few days before, but he was already packed and ready to head out. Months ago, he and Ryan had applied to become members of Phi Kappa Psi. Then, classes had let out for the summer and Ryan had gone home. Jack, unsure of what to do or where to go, somehow ended up back at Kris’ place. She had also gone home for the summer, back to New England, but one of her housemates was taking summer classes and invited Jack over for the summer. 

Now that he and Ryan had been accepted to the fraternity, though, he was moving into their house. They’d purposely picked out the smallest fraternity on-campus in hopes of getting a room in a house rather than have to stay in the dorms again or go on their own hunt for an apartment. Sure enough, their fraternity of choice had a house and they’d already secured a spot for themselves.

He finished packing his meager collection of belongings that same day. With move-in day right around the corner, Ryan arrived back at the university nearly fashionably late. They were able to fit both of their things in Ryan’s car, but not with much room at all to spare. The drive to the frat house was cramped and a little uncomfortable, but the relief of finally arriving and being able to escape the crowded quarters was enough to make up for the ride.

Ryan and Jack were sharing a room at the back of the house on the third floor of the townhouse-esque building, and they were pleasantly surprised to find that the room was much larger than their dorm had been. There was only one other person moving in that day, as the three original members hadn’t bothered to move their things out for the summer. It proved to be a relatively calm day as Jack and Ryan didn’t have all that much to move beside their enormous movie collection. 

Their fellow fraternity brothers were ecstatic to see the boxes of movies Ryan and Jack brought with them. There was a small box TV in the house, but they didn’t have more than five tapes to their name. Ryan warned them it was mostly horror and shooters, with the exception of a few more lighthearted titles, but they were excited nevertheless. Ryan and Jack, meanwhile, were excited to have earned a little street cred with their new housemates.

There were four members total, excluding Jack and Ryan, each of them so completely different from the next it was hard to imagine how they were friends. The current President, Rodney “Rod” Fauss, was a tall and lanky man who looked like he’d never quite escaped puberty. His messy brown hair stuck out at all odd angles around his face and ears, but he had some kind of charismatic, boyish charm that made him look approachable despite his appearance. He seemed to only wear clothes that were just a little too large and too short for him, but maybe that was only because he couldn’t find clothes that fit properly.

The next, Vice President and childhood best friend of Rodney, was Lee Hardy, a short and fit man with energy to spare. He kept his hair trimmed close to his head, claiming the tight ringlets were too much work when it grew too long. He had bright eyes and an even brighter smile, and he was never afraid to share them. He was, undoubtedly, the most vocal fraternity brother they had, but Ryan and Jack liked his energy. He was fun to be around.

Thirdly, the only other original member and treasurer, was Gordy Billings, a short and slightly overweight man with a rather standoffish glare always on his face. Despite his standoffish nature, he turned out to be a reliable source of unbiased truth and genuine concern for the wellbeing of his friends. This came as a relief to Ryan and Jack, as they’d initially expected him to be more unpleasant. It turned out he was also a big fan of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and he would often request screenings of it with Jack and Ryan.

The last and only other new member was Eric Ellis, the designated jock of the group. He was a sophomore, like Ryan and Jack, but he had the build of a grown man. He still had the personality of a fifteen-year-old game junkie, but the others didn’t mind much. In fact, they found his childish personality something like comic relief, and he never failed to make them laugh.

All together, they made up some kind of motley crew, and they became fast friends.

Classes began shortly after move in day, and with them came all kinds of new struggles for the boys. Ryan was taking an intense theatre history class, and Jack was starting to get into the meatier bits of business management. While they were both still heavy-laden with general education classes, they only had eyes for their respective majors. That being said, they were almost literally drowning in homework. Papers, assignments, essays for reading, projects, analyses, so on and so on became their native environment, from which they couldn’t seem to escape.

 

Ryan came home from rehearsal later than usual that night, and he wasn’t in a good mood when he slammed the door to his and Jack’s room. He kicked off his black Doc Martens and trudged to his bed. He hit the mattress with an exaggerated groan and buried his face in his sheets. He popped his head up comically as the strong scent of nail polish hit him. 

“The hell are you doing?” he asked, staring questioningly at Jack, who was painting black polish onto his fresh-trimmed nails.

“Y’know, it’s punk rock, dude,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I didn’t think you were into the punk rock scene,” Ryan mused.

“I wasn’t, but Stuart’s been showing me some of his tapes and it’s pretty good!” Jack explained with a smile.

“Huh,” Ryan hummed and rolled over to face his wall.

“What’s eatin’ ya?” Jack asked.

“Just this whole production,” Ryan sighed, “I feel like everyone’s expecting so much from me, and like, I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m just a sophomore, man.”  
Jack was struggling to get the edge of his right pinkie. He stayed silent and waited for Ryan to continue.

“I didn’t really do theatre in high school, and I don’t really feel ready for this.”

“Why are you a Theatre Major?” Jack asked seriously, although he didn’t look up from his nails.

“Why am I… what the heck, Jack?” Ryan stammered.

“You heard me,” Jack replied, rather blasė.

Ryan grumbled as he considered Jack’s question. Finally, he spoke up, “I guess it was something I just… always wanted to do but never did? Like I didn’t have time in high school, and when I had that first day of rehearsal I just kind of, knew, that it was what I wanted to do.”

“Okay,” Jack said slowly, considering his words as he went, “so it’s your passion.”

“I don’t know if I’d say it like that, but yeah, I guess,” Ryan conceded, “so what?”

“So if it matters to you, don’t let other people and their expectations get in the way of you enjoying it and succeeding by your own standards,” Jack replied as though he’d had the answer all along.

“Easier said than done,” Ryan huffed.

“Yeah, but that’s how it is with everything, dude,” Jack countered, “everything is easy in thought and difficult in practice. That shouldn’t stop you.”

“I guess you’re right,” Ryan said softly. He clutched his pillow tighter underneath him and whispered, “I’m just nervous is all.”

“I know you are,” Jack said, “I am too.”

“Nervous? You?” Ryan asked, incredulous.

“Uh, yeah,” Jack shrugged, “there’s all kinds of things I’m nervous about.”

“Like what?” Ryan egged.

“Hey, I’m not getting put on blast here!” Jack laughed, but his cheeks were flushed.

“I think I’m gonna sleep,” Ryan said, “don’t worry about bothering me.”

Jack hummed his acknowledgement and continued painting his nails, knowing full well Ryan wasn’t going to sleep. 

After a year of living together, they were familiar enough with each other’s mannerisms and habits. The one that Jack had experienced the most was Ryan’s sleepless nights when something was eating at him. He’d gotten relatively accustomed to sleeping with the TV on, sometimes only static playing, because Ryan didn’t like the silence when he felt like this. Jack also knew better now than to panic if he woke in the middle of the night and Ryan wasn’t there. After a particularly alarming one-man search-and-rescue mission last semester, he found out that Ryan sometimes just needed to go for walks.

Now, he knew to make Ryan externalise the things that were bothering him and then to give him space so he could work it out on his own. If he needed to talk to Jack he would. He always had.

Sure enough, when Jack woke up to go to the bathroom, the TV was on, static because the movie had ended, and Ryan wasn’t in bed. He got a glass of water and shrugged it off, returning to his slumber shortly after. 

Ryan, meanwhile, had made his way deep into the neighborhood, leaving the frat house nearly a half-hour walk away. He had his headphones on and one of Jack’s Smiths tapes playing loudly. The autumn night was cold in northern California, and he shivered as a fresh breeze hit him. He wished he’d brought a jacket. The wind was blowing his hair around, mostly in his face, so he took a moment to put it up with a hair tie he’d knicked from Kris.

He couldn’t shake the stress that dogged him. It wasn’t so much that he felt pressured by the play itself - no, he felt far more pressured by the seniors and juniors who’d lost the role to him. They expected him to outperform their wildest dreams, and many of them still hadn’t forgiven him for the role he was cast. They were only six weeks into the semester, and yet Ryan felt like he was being overwhelmed by the sheer demand of it all.

Ryan wasn’t paying attention when he passed a small bar near Main St, and he ran directly into a man lingering on the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything when he collided with the man, only kept walking. He didn’t hear the “hey, asshole” slurred at him, so he didn’t expect the heavy hand on his shoulder and the disorienting turn his assailant gave him as a fight broke out. 

“You need’ta look where you’re goin’, asshole,” the man, a grungy-looking guy in his late 20’s, growled.

“Sorry,” Ryan huffed, “but you shouldn’t be hanging around on the sidewalk.”

“You’re the one that ran in’ta me!” the man roared and stumbled. 

Ryan sighed as the other man threw a punch his way. He casually leaned out of the way, and the man went running past him. He took the opportunity to give him an extra shove, and the drunkard fell flat on his face. He scrambled around for a bit and regained his footing, squaring up with Ryan again, his fists held comically in front of his face.

“You try that again an’ I’ll kill ya!” he shouted.

“Okay,” Ryan mused as he threw a strong right cross at the man.

He was surprised that the man didn’t go down as easily as before, and he barely managed to block the return punch aimed at his face. He was completely unprepared for a second punch from the man’s other hand, and he felt a wave of pain as that fist connected with his eye. 

Ryan growled and threw the man off of him. This was quickly becoming a real fight, but Ryan wasn't in the mood for one. He also didn’t like being slapped around by this guy. He charged, feigning a left cross but connecting with a short and sharp uppercut with his right arm. The man fell to the ground, and Ryan dropped onto him. It only took three quick hits to split his brow and knock him out, but Ryan found he didn’t want to stop once he’d started. After six hits, another patron pulled him off the man and shoved him away, telling him to get lost. 

Ryan huffed but realized the fight was over, so he brushed his hands off on his jeans and left in a worse mood than when he’d left for his walk. He decided it would be better to make his way back to the house, and after a quick glance at his watch found that it was nearing four in the morning. He could feel exhaustion beginning to set in; rather than waste away the rest of his night on these miserable streets, he preferred to go back to bed and maybe sleep for a while.

Jack woke up when Ryan opened the door and turned the TV off, killing the static. He didn’t say anything as Ryan shuffled around, stripped to his underwear, and crawled in bed. Jack listened for a while until he heard Ryan’s breathing slow and even. He sighed in relief and succumbed to sleep once again.

 

➤➤➤

 

Geoff woke with a start to the sound of someone crying across the house. He rubbed his hands hard against his face and clambered out of bed, walking swiftly but staggering to the boys’ rooms. A quick check in Michael’s room crossed him off the list of suspects, so Geoff turned his attention to Gavin and Jeremy’s room down the hall. Gavin was sound asleep, dead to the world, but Jeremy was curled up on his pillow, clinging tightly to his stuffed tiger, sobbing into its ears.

Geoff leaned down and plucked Jeremy out of bed, wrapping him in a loose blanket as he did so. Jeremy clung to Geoff’s neck, his tiger still in hand, and sobbed against his stubble. Geoff carried him into his room and tucked him in. He laid down next to Jeremy and held the child as he cried, rubbing his back gently and occasionally placing gentle kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Geoff yawned.

“Mmhmm,” Jeremy nodded, his tear-streaked face growing red from crying.

“It’s just a dream, Li’l J,” Geoff said as he pulled Jeremy closer, “you’re okay, kiddo.”

Jeremy scrambled to get a hold on Geoff, and he sniffled as he buried his face into Geoff’s chest. Eventually, his sobs turned to heavy breathing, and Geoff peered down at the sleeping child in his arms. He fought hard against the sudden pain in his chest and the sob that was building inside him. He loved this child and his other two more than he could handle, and the fact that he was quickly running out of ways to take care of them scared him more than anything else.

He didn’t fall asleep that night but instead looked at Jeremy and enjoyed the peace for a while. He watched as soft, morning sunlight slowly washed over Jeremy, and he turned off his alarm before it went off so as not to wake his son. He carefully crawled out of bed to get dressed and make breakfast for the boys before waking them up. 

It was a wild scramble, just like every other morning, but he finally got them all together, dressed, fed, lunches packed and in the car by quarter to eight. He drove Michael to school first and he, Michael, and Jeremy waved him goodbye before they made their way to the elementary school. Geoff parked and brought his littler ones into school himself, and when he’d gotten them to their classrooms and said goodbye, he made his way back to his car. He sighed and turned the key, and the engine sputtered and hummed. He made the ten-or-so-minute drive from the elementary school to the gas station where he worked.

The Globe Oil gas station had taken Geoff on less than a week after he’d been laid off, and he was more than grateful for the full-time job as an assistant manager. He’d applied for food stamps and welfare the same day as his job termination, and between the three of them he was close to being able to afford everything. He’d sold the TV and cut down the electricity use in the house as much as he could, but the water bills and grocery cost was still eating away at what little money he had. The mortgage on the house had been paid off before he had kids, thank god, but the property taxes and car insurance still took more than he had left. 

He was considering getting a second job, but he was already working the whole time the boys were at school and aftercare. He was thankful that Michael had joined the middle school football team, which meant most days he stayed late at school anyway. He felt guilty nonetheless that he had to rely solely on the school to look after his children while he worked to provide for them. 

 

Geoff was filing paperwork in the tiny back office at Globe Oil, sorting stacks of credit and debit card receipts and looking over high schoolers’ resumes. One of the boys who was working the register that day, Randy, knocked on the door and told Geoff he had someone waiting on the line for him. Geoff abandoned his paperwork and followed Randy up to the front of the store where the landline was. He thanked Randy and picked the phone up off the counter.

“This is Mr. Ramsey,” he said, still wondering who was calling.

“Hello, Mr. Ramsey,” Mrs. Oppenthorn, the principal at Gavin and Jeremy’s school, said, sounding concerned.

“What’s going on?” Geoff asked, his mind racing.

“I need to let you know that Jeremy was throwing up in the bathroom during lunch, and he has a fever of a hundred and five,” she said calmly, “he needs to be brought home as soon as possible. I know you’re at work, so I have him set up in the nurse’s office, but it would be good to get him in to see the doctor as soon as you can.”

“I can be there in about an hour, is that okay?” Geoff asked with a sigh.

“That’ll be just fine. I’ll let him know when you’re coming,” she replied.

Geoff hung the phone on the receiver and leaned against the wall.

“‘Sup, Geoff?” Randy asked.

“Principal just called from my kids’ school, one of my boys is really sick and they need me to go get him,” Geoff sighed.

“I can handle the store by myself if you want to go get him,” Randy offered.

“I gotta find someone to take my shift,” Geoff groaned.

“You could bring him here and keep him in the office,” he suggested.

“Nah, he’s throwin’ up and got a fever. I’m gonna have to take him t’ see the doctor today,” Geoff explained. Randy just nodded and dropped the subject. 

 

When Geoff finally found someone to cover the last four hours of his shift, he bolted out the door and sped all the way to the elementary school. He picked Jeremy up from the nurse’s office and made his way to The Bay Care Center’s walk-in clinic. The Bay Care Center was the only hospital in Los Santos that took Geoff’s insurance from Globe Oil, so despite the fact that it wasn’t an extremely well-outfitted practice he had no choice but to entrust them with his medical issues.

He went in with Jeremy when their names were called and answered all the nurse’s questions. No, he hadn’t seemed too sick that morning, just a nightmare and slight overheating last night. He wasn’t sure if Jeremy had had a tetanus shot in the last year because he didn’t have his medical records. They had to run a couple of routine tests on Jeremy, one of which was a small blood panel, and a few hours later they had the diagnosis: Rotavirus.

“We have to transfer him to a hospital that can keep him for a couple of days,” the nurse explained, “he needs fluids and medication, and he shouldn’t be exposed to your other children. You may even want to bring them in and have them tested; it’s likely they could have also been exposed to the virus and may already be sick.”

Geoff took the letter from the nurse, packed Jeremy up in the car, and made his way to the Central Los Santos Medical Center where he had been referred. In the back of his mind, he knew this was going to cost him more money than he had, but he wasn’t going to let that interfere with getting Jeremy the care he needed. He would figure the finances out later, his son’s health was more important.

When Jeremy had been admitted, had a second blood panel done, had an IV drip and his first round of antibiotics, Geoff made a call to the school to make sure Michael and Gavin went to after school care. He informed the principal that they might be contagious and asked if she wouldn’t mind making sure they stayed away from the other kids. She said she didn’t mind at all, but told him the boys would have to be picked up by six that evening. He thanked her again and again before finally hanging up and returning to Jeremy’s room.

His heart felt heavy as he watched the littlest of his boys sleeping fitfully, an IV in his hand and cold sweat on his forehead. Geoff sat down in the small armchair beside the bed and watched in quiet despondency. The thought of money was still eating away at the back of his mind, but at present, as minutes slowly dragged by, all he could do was watch his son and feel helpless. He wondered if he’d done something wrong, if Rotavirus was something he could have prevented. Michael and Gavin had never been sick like this, this whole hospitalization thing was so new and frightening for Geoff. 

His eyes wandered away from Jeremy to the clock on the wall, and his heart practically lurched as he realized it was almost six - he had less than ten minutes to get to the school to pick up Michael and Gavin. He quickly gathered his coat and keys and rushed out of the room, hailing a nurse on his way out to inform her he had to pick up his other sons and would return shortly. She nodded and waved him off, promising to take good care of Jeremy while he was gone. 

Geoff drove like a madman through the early-evening Los Santos traffic. It was a little after six by the time he made it to the school, and Gavin and Michael were waiting on the front steps. Gavin had his face buried in a children’s book, and Michael was throwing rocks into the bushes on either side of the stairs. Geoff cranked his window down and called to them. They jumped as they came to attention, snatched their backpacks, and went running to the car. Geoff got out to buckle them in their carseats. He wasn’t sure what to tell them about why he’d been late or where they were going now.

“Why did Jeremy go home?” Gavin asked, breaching the topic before Geoff had made up his mind about what to say. 

Geoff sighed heavily and tapped the heel of his hand against the wheel as he quickly considered his reply. The light changed green and he finally said, “Jeremy isn’t feeling well, and the doctor wants him to stay at the hospital for a little while so they can help him feel better.”

“Is he gonna die?” Gavin asked, more frantically than before, tears welling in his bright eyes.

“No,” Geoff said firmly, “no, Gavvy, Jeremy’s not gonna die. He just doesn't feel well. He’s gonna come home in a couple days, okay? You don’t need to worry about that, kiddo.”  
Geoff reached back to pat Gavin on the knee as reassurance, but he already seemed to be over it. Michael was gazing out the window, lazily watching the trees and houses go by as they made their way back to the hospital. Geoff watched him out of the corner of his eye in the rearview mirror and wondered what he was thinking. Michael had always been keen and understanding, and Geoff worried that he might pick up on some of his own stressors during all of this. He decided he wouldn’t say anything at present, not until Michael asked anyway.

He pulled his rusting car into the nearest spot to the door he could find and went around to get the boys out. Michael didn’t need so much help nowadays, but Gavin still struggled with the multi-faced clip that kept him bound to his seat. While Geoff got a squirmy Gavin out of his seat, Michael leaned against the car and waited quietly to go inside. 

Jeremy was now awake and sipping orange juice while he watched The Great Mouse Detective on the little tv the nurse had wheeled in to entertain him while Geoff was away. Gavin clambered up into the bed with Jeremy before Geoff could stop him, and there they sat, Jeremy’s eyes heavy-lidded with fatigue and Gavin staring at the screen intently. Michael hung back by the door, watching his brothers warily. 

Geoff couldn’t help but feel some shadow of relief. They’d made it through one more day, now he just needed to figure out how they’d get through the rest.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning to update this monthly to give myself time to write. I'm not quitting on this story either - I'm extremely committed to it!


End file.
